


Things Stay the Same

by Charlie572



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x01 coda fic, Angst, Crying Dean, Dean is emotionally distant with Jack, Dean struggles with parenting Jack, Gen, Jack is an oblivious bean, M/M, Sam is the reasonable one and tries to be there for Jack when Dean can't, So much angst, This Is Sad, bc Dean is depressed, eventually he's gonna have to stop being emotionally distant with Jack, first ever coda fic, he's still gonna be sad tho be aware, protect him, which is all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:23:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/pseuds/Charlie572
Summary: This is sad and Dean's gonna cry. Based on a tumblr post by @bonesmisha that said "Don’t imagine Dean slowly beginning to hate Jack less and less as Jack starts to exhibit Cas’s mannerisms. " I did imagine it. I'm sorry bonesmisha.





	Things Stay the Same

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER  
> (i'll love you anyway bUT STILL COMMENT PLSSSS)
> 
> I need to know if this fic worked, made ANY sense at all, if Dean's actions made sense, if Jack's actions made sense, idk! What about dialogue, is it believable or flat???????? Cuz this fic is either gonna work really well or n o t. So please let me know. And don't be afraid of criticism, it's actually way more useful to me than praise. Please criticize my writing. It will help me grow. 
> 
> Apparently there are no italics on AO3????????? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE?????
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: Shoutout to LuNaLoverAlex for teaching me how to format stuff on AO3 so it looks like actual writing and not the "notes" app on Apple devices!  
>  
> 
> Headcanon about Jack the nephilim: He creates photorealistic drawings, but drags the green crayon in short bursts down the bottom of the page to create grass. It makes for an interesting effect. This is a headcanon that will carry over into any other work with Jack.
> 
> I don't know how I wrote angst. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, it just happened.
> 
> Protect Jack Kline at all costs.

Sam’s worried about leaving Dean and Jack alone.

He doesn’t think Dean really wants to hurt Jack, just that he needs somewhere to take out his anger. But groceries have to be bought, and they need gas money, and Dean’s in no shape to do much of anything. So Sam gives Jack a coloring book and heads out. He knows better than to take the impala. He pulls a lower-profile car out of the Bunker’s garage, heads to town. 

Jack LOVES coloring books. So much. He sits on the floor, crayons in hand, drawing patterns and shapes and occasionally staying in the lines. He could color forever and ever and ever--

 

_hrrrrmgff_

 

He ignores the noise at first, trying to decide if he likes blue better than red. But the noise keeps coming, over and over, so he sets down the crayons, closes his eyes, and listens.  
It takes several minutes, but Jack decides he knows what the noise is. Which is good, because he knows how to fix it.

...

Dean’s spent the last hour staring at the ceiling. He thinks about getting up, about getting a beer or something stronger, about listening to music. He thinks about getting in his car and driving for days on end, just him. He thinks about calling Jody and checking on her girls. Dean does none of these things; he stares at the ceiling.  
He barely looks down when his door opens, slowly. Doesn’t draw his gun, doesn’t even reach for it.   
“Dean?” Jack’s voice is small, concerned. It always is.

“Hmm,” Dean sighs.

“I’m hungry.” Dean sighs again

“...We have a fridge.”

“It’s empty.”

“Hm?” Dean sighs a third time, filling his lungs to overflowing with air, letting it all out. This time, though, he gets up. He grabs his keys and walks past Jack towards the garage. He doesn’t bother checking the fridge on the way out. 

Jack follows him to the impala, folds himself into the front seat. Dean drives in silence, it’s dark. And a long drive.

...

The drive-thru menu stares Dean in the face, light burning his eyes. He squints, tries again, but it’s no help. Nothing makes sense, the words all run together. He doesn’t ask what Jack wants, tells the speaker “Two of the special” will do. He manages to remember to pull forward to the window and pull a card out of his pocket. It’s not declined, they get their food and Dean parks the car. He eats in silence, idly. The special is a burger, but it tastes like sand. The fries taste like sand, too, the tea like water. Jack either doesn’t know what good food tastes like, or he doesn’t care. Dean has to remind himself to chew, chew, swallow. Drink. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Jack says through a mouthful of fries. “These make me very happy.” He flashes a dorky smile.

Dean doesn’t mean to leave the keys in the ignition. He doesn’t mean to run into a picnic table. He’s not sure he means to leave the car, but that face, those words, everything, it’s too much. It’s all too much.

Dean ends up pressed against a brick wall, tears streaming down his face, legs threatening to drop him. At some point Jack finds him. Dean doesn’t know if that’s hours or minutes later. He turns around.

“I’m--I’m sorry.” Dean chokes on the words, Jack tilts his head. The tears only come faster for Dean, Jack’s eyes take on a hint of fear, he starts to back up.

Then Dean’s hugging him, hugging him so tight, for so long. They say nothing, Dean just cries and cries. They go back to the car, and Dean takes Jack shopping for a change of clothes.


End file.
